If Only You
by Numbah702
Summary: In the wake of tragedy, Patton and Fanny must pick up the pieces.


A/N: For all the fans that have been waiting (im)patiently for my return - This is a one-shot I wrote a long time ago as part of a series of oneshots centered on this couple which I hadn't planned on posting until after FRAGMENTS was finished. I'm posting it now, however, because I thought it would be a great way to announce to everyone that I am back, and that I am resuming work on FRAGMENTS, and it's also to serve as a sort of peace offering for the long haitus on my story.

Anyhow, please read and I hope this little morsel is enough to tide you over until I can get the next chapter of FRAGMENTS up, it's halfway written and (SPOILER) will contain a long-awaited (maybe...sort of) interaction between Wally and Abigail.

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If Only You:

Thick gray clouds had gathered outside, blotting out the sun, sleets of rain slashing across the windowpane. The television did nothing to drown out the silence. Dark black hair fell into darker eyes as his strong shoulders could no longer hold up the weight of his sorrow.

Patton glanced to the open bedroom door. He could see those red curls he loved tangling his fingers in splayed across a multicolored quilt from his position in the living room and sighed. She hadn't moved from their bed since they'd arrived home from the hospital early morning and it was now late in the afternoon.

Leaning back, the well-built young man turned his face to the ceiling staring searchingly as though expecting to find answers to his every question written in the pure white plaster.

But no revelations appeared.

So Patton leaned forward again, balancing his muscled arms on his knees and looking to his hands. They were the large, burly hands of a strong man, rough and calloused from years of hard laborious work. There was a worn gold band wrapped about his left ring finger and he twisted it as he tended to do when nervous or at a loss. Her slender body fit perfectly in those hands and he'd once imagined himself powerful enough to protect her from anything.

But he'd been wrong.

Patton held his head and fought the strangled pain in his chest. He hadn't been able to save her from that one word that unassumingly slipped off the doctor's tongue. And he'd never before in his life felt smaller, more helpless, than he had while sitting in that red chair clutching a petite ivory hand and watching the world shatter in glittering emerald eyes.

After a moment of wallowing debate, Patton rose from the couch. He tentatively made his way to the bedroom, leaned against the doorframe. She was still dressed in her blue jeans and yellow spaghetti strapped tank, his brown jacket wrapped tight about her small frame. She lay on her side, eyes focused out their apartment window watching droplets of rainwater sluice the settling night. Her tiny hands were brought to her face, fingers intertwined, against the soft pink of her mouth. Between her bony arms was squeezed a green Rainbow Monkey doll.

Patton stepped forward, sat on their bed beside her. She didn't move, didn't look to him. He studied their bedroom wall decorated with a few framed pictures of themselves, friends, and family. Her nightgown, silken white and trimmed with pink lace, dangled off the brass doorknob. His leather work boots caked with mud leaned against one another in the far corner.

"What did I do wrong?"

He startled at how small, how forlorn, her usual obnoxiously loud Irish brogue sounded. Patton took a deep shaking breath. Warm tears sprung to the corner of dark eyes that had been dry the entire day.

Hand trembling, he brushed the red curls from her face, placed a tender kiss to her temple, whispering reassuringly, "Baby, you didn't do anything wrong."

Her knees drew up and she folded inside herself, demanding, "Then why did this happen?"

But the words broke into an anguished sob.

Patton pulled her up to him in one swift movement, holding her weeping form against his barrel chest. She clawed at his shirt, hot tears permeating the thin fabric, as her body wracked with her grief. He held her tight, furtively pushing the hair from her face, massaging her back and shoulders, in every attempt he could think of to comfort her, even as tears spilled down his own cheeks.

For who knew how long, Patton rocked her until her cries finally died down and she was silent and somber. He held her in his lap like a child, leaning against the headboard of their bed, pressing kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, and the top of her head, and breathing in deep her scent of fresh cut flowers in spring. Her face glistened, saturated with tears as she fiddled her fingers in his shirt.

"I'm not enough of a woman," she murmured, reasoning, "If I'd been more of a woman…then…then it wouldn't have…"

"No," he told her firmly, tightening his grip on her, "Don't do that. You're a beautiful woman, the perfect woman. This…it's not your fault."

"Then whose fault is it? Who else's fault could it have been?"

"It's no one's fault," he whispered, burying his face in her hair, his words hot on her skin, "It just happened. It's no one's fault. No one caused this. It just happened."

"Do you think…do you think…I would of been a good mother?" she whimpered, sobs starting again.

"Yeah," he breathed, dotting kisses along her face, "And one day you will be."

"It's not fair, Patton," she cried, "I wanted this. I wanted it so much."

"I know, baby."

"A family," she went on, gasping for air, "My family with you. The family we've planned since the day we wed. What if we can't have that now? What if I can't ever…? Oh god, Patton, what if my body is just rotten and death inside? How could you want me…if…if…?"

"If only you are all I'll have in the end?"

Through her tears and choked sobs, she nodded. He pushed the damp strands of red curls away, cupped her cheeks and drew her face to his, touching their foreheads.

"Only you..." he murmured against her mouth, "Fanny, _you_ are only all I have ever wanted and all I will ever want in this entire world."

She pressed a kiss to his lips, supporting herself on his shoulders, strong and broad. The taste of their salty tears mingled on their tongues.

"We'll have that family," Patton promised on a soft breath, kissing her again and again, "Even if it's only us."

- END -

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A/N: I don't like the last line. I feel like it implies they aren't already a family. I thought about removing it, but then I don't like the line before it for an ending, and I didn't know how else to end it. I don't know, let me know what you think, please.

Also, I tried to make it obvious what happened here without actually coming out and saying it but if you're not sure, just ask and I'll fill you in.


End file.
